Stalking Horse [antikvár]

Prologue Mouse changed trains at Baker Street, catching the tube just before the doors closed - that was a good omen. There was a seat available too, another good sign. She wedged herself between a tall scruffy girl cradling a backpack on her lap and a middle-aged woman with an enormous black handbag. Mouse couldn't understand why other women burdened themselves in this way. She herself travelled light, with her essentials squirrelled away in the pockets of her coat. It was important to be able to move around without clutter. The lad opposite her was a Prince William lookalike. He checked her out as she sat down, his eyes flicking over her without interest. She was used to that. She never raised much interest on first sight. But she could get a man's attention, all right - when she wanted to. Prince William turned back to his paper, raising it to shield his handsome face from her view. Which was OK by her as she found herself staring at the best omen of all. There, on the raised page, was the smile that looked down on her at night and which welcomed her to each new day. The off-centre grin, firm jaw and blazing bright eyes - jade 1